Beyond Words
by daughterofmars
Summary: Eventually a collection of Outer Senshi ficlets written for a challenge at LJ. Prisoner of Love: Michiru wasn't the only one who had strange dreams right before the events of episode 110. HarukaMessiah.
1. Metamorphosis Unchanged

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the awesomeness that is Tenoh Haruka. I simply borrow and worship. Give Takeuchi-sama the credit she deserves; I do.

**Notes:** What follows here is the drabbles/ficlets/fics I write for sm-monthly at LiveJournal's April challenge which is Outer Senshi. I do intend to write a ficlet for each day, but already now I'm one behind, so we'll see, but I do think I'll write more than one (also to regain the feeling of the characters of Michiru and Haruka and eventually continue with Destined Couple), so until then, please enjoy. I sure do. It feels wonderful writing short stories again.

This one was inspired by the theme: Plastic Surgery.

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**Metamorphosis (****Unchanged)**

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It doesn't take any kind of plastic surgery to make Haruka appear to be a man; and very much so, at that. All it takes is the right clothing, the right movements and a slight edge of hoarse darkness to her voice that she has mastered for years by now. She already has the cool arrogance, the flirtatious smirk and what Michiru has dubbed her "prey look". None of these things are foreign to her, neither are they the result of careful study or simple elements of acting, but Haruka has long ago realised that to most people the difference is so subtle that it disappears in between all the other nuances of grey. She has stopped trying to explain it. The people who matter already know; like Michiru. And herself.

Neither does it take any kind of plastic surgery to make her look fully feminine again. Sometimes unbuttoning the two top buttons of her shirt is enough. Of course, no one questions her sex when she's in her Senshi fuku, but Haruka prefers to look like a woman without a skirt. A simple change of jeans can do the trick and strangers who mistook her for a boy the day prior, will turn their heads an extra time to stare; making sure their eyes didn't betray them. Luckily, Haruka has never minded the attention. She likes defying the limits that she experiences in the world around her. They challenge her – like the horizon – to outrun them and discover what lies beyond.

Haruka is well aware that this little game of hers is like always walking a tightrope, balancing on the thin line dividing the domain of male and female, and yet she never questions herself. She knows her true nature – who she was (the Princess of Uranus), who she is (Tenoh Haruka, the soldier and the girl) and who she will eventually become (Sailor Uranus of Crystal Tokyo) – and doesn't try to deny it, but unlike the simplicity of sex, gender is a many-sided concept.

And, when all comes down to it, being who she is (all that she is), it's in her blood to be somewhat of an explorer.

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**finis**

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The title for this is somewhat of a paradox. Metamorphosis is a Greek word that means transformation (it's also used in biology to describe the change taking place with for example butterflies after they've come into existance) and the word in paranthesis of course means exactly what it says. Unchanged. So, I've chosen this title to show that even though Haruka seems to be a very dynamic character, there's also an aspect about her that never changes.


	2. The Things Left Unsaid

**Prompt: **Keeping Secrets at LJ community sm-monthly.

**Notes: **Just me hinting at a lot of plot ideas I've had since discovering the Haruka/Michiru pairing. I liked the feel and pace of this ficlet, so I decided to upload it despite its utter lack of quality. I really think I captured the dynamics between Haruka and Michiru here and gave a good guess at what both of them could be hiding in their past. I know some people will think I made Michiru too sexually experienced and Haruka too sexually inexperienced, but I do actually think that - at least, judging from episode 106 and the monologue given to Haruka for the S season - Haruka kept to herself just like Michiru did, just in another way. ... Maybe I should write another drabble about that at some point.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Takeuchi-sama owns it all. I burrow and play and make no money of it.

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**The Things Left Unsaid**

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They both have secrets; secrets they don't even share with one another.

Since Haruka first transformed and joined Michiru in her mission, they have made many promises. Mostly about their duty as Senshi; about forgetting the meaning of lovers when they are in their fuku, only remembering what the concept of partners demand of them… but also about the value of life and the necessity of death when it comes to their Princess and the future Kingdom.

However, one vow they made to each other had nothing to do with Uranus and Neptune.

"Don't ask me where I came from," Haruka had requested one evening after an embarrassing meeting with a tall, blonde man who had insisted on calling her Haru-chan and kissed her cheek with the arrogant carelessness she would have allowed from no one but her older brother (and from the look on her face, she was very close to not allowing him the liberty either). Michiru had promised she wouldn't, because she knew how important privacy was to her girlfriend – but only if Haruka in return would decline from ever inquiring about her past as well.

So, they had promised. The questions would lie dormant until they one day chose to bring them up themselves.

And therefore Haruka doesn't know that Michiru hasn't spoken to her mother for the past two years; ever since the day she'd sent a blushing, but beautiful Tahara Tomoko out the door, slapping the at that time 13-year-old Michiru for her "impertinence" and "lack of pride" in allowing herself to be "infatuated" with another girl. Neither does Haruka know that the only reason Michiru had moved to Tokyo was to be able to continue her relationship with Elza Gray in peace, without her mother's condemning eyes watching over her.

Michiru, on the other hand, doesn't know that Haruka lost her first national running competition because she'd stopped to help her sworn enemy when the girl had fallen and broken her ankle or that she had never since allowed anyone to intervene when she'd first started running (except for Michiru, that one time…) Another fact unknown to her is how Haruka cut her hair short in defiance when her father had forbidden her to join the motor sports club at school, deeming the activity too masculine for a proper girl of the Tenoh family.

Indeed, they share many things, do the Senshi of the Sky and the Senshi of the Sea. Laughter and joy. Tears and grief. Yet something always remains unsaid between them.

That's the one promise they made, not as Uranus and Neptune, but as Haruka and Michiru – to be able to always look each other in the eye and recognise one another for what they are right now and not for what they once were. Michiru doesn't ask why Haruka never speaks of her father and consequently Haruka never words her interest in the closeness between Elza and Michiru.

And since none of them ask, neither of them tells.


	3. Visual Lullaby

**Prompt: **I had to explain the fascination of my OTP in few words. This what was came out if it. I quite like it actually. Though it's short. So very short.

**Notes: **I always thought Michiru would be the type to put more into sex than Haruka would. Not because she's a wuss and a girly little girl, but because she's an artist. Her emotions are incredibly strong and she gives into them in another way than Haruka does. Haruka fights them, too often for words. Michiru lets herself be swept off on the waves of it. Fitting, ne?

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**Visual Lullaby**

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Michiru doesn't go to sleep after sex like normal people do. Neither does she speak. Any talking she might do is limited to before or during the act. Afterwards she always just watches. Patiently, she waits for Haruka to doze off and when she does...

With a fascination that would be foreign to an outsider (but not to Haruka; Haruka would recognise it, if she were awake to see), Michiru lets her eyes wander over her lover's body. It's not because she doesn't know it well. She has seen everything there is to see of Haruka, touched every part of her, tasted every inch. Michiru knows the feel of Haruka beneath her fingertips, the taste of Haruka on her tongue. She knows the sound of Haruka's voice, deep and velvety with a slight quality of hoarseness.

Yet, she watches with the fascination of the artist she is.

Michiru admires how the shadows dance across the curve of a feminine hip, how a sprinkle of light blooms like flowers down a strong thigh, casting a curious darkness between Haruka's legs - as if the aqua-haired girl doesn't already know what she would see there. With a gentle expression carved into every of her features, she notices how Haruka's face becomes relaxed in sleep - girlish and childlike, unlike any mask she wears at day.

And that expression - the wrinkle between light, proud eyebrows - disappearing (finally), is what makes her feel peaceful. Sex stirs awake ancient emotions in Michiru; emotions she can't control and only understands sparsely. If she tried to sleep, she would maybe be able to doze off just like Haruka does - yes, but be plagued by dreams of solitude and loneliness. Feelings that she thought she'd never experience again.

Now, as she has seen the content look on the taller woman's face, Michiru can lay down and close her eyes with a smile, giving in to the dull buzz of fatigue in her body - once again assured that when she wakes up, Haruka will be beside her. Because her lover is a flirt, but for one more day she will keep her promise.

Not to run.


	4. Prisoner of Love

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the awesomeness that is Tenoh Haruka. I simply borrow and worship. Give Takeuchi-sama the credit she deserves; I do.

**Notes:** This ficlet is inspired by a picture that I unfortunately can't link to, but search for 8654556 by TheCryBaby on deviantart and you'll find the image that inspired this ficlet. It's very Haruka centred, with some pointers to Haruka/Messiah and of course Haruka/Michiru subtext, because there always is in my fics. Why break up a good thing? :P

Now - enjoy!

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**Prisoner of Love**

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When she opens her eyes, she knows she's dreaming.

Everything around her has been deprived of its colour, the only nuance left untouched besides the greys and white of her fuku, the woman in front of her. Yet, even _her_ colour seems to be less colour than light, her hair shining like silver moonlight, though it also (underneath its whiteness) bears a touch of darkness - the black of night.

A goddess. No, not only a goddess.

The Messiah.

"You possess such a beautiful strength, Uranus," the Messiah says and her tone is admiring, her voice sweet and youthful.

Haruka knows that the being in front of her has never been forced to experience the reality of war; the cruelty of humans. Knowing that she will have to drag such innocence into the dirt of Neptune's and her own mission makes her heart ache. Taking a deep breath, curling her hand into a tight fist, Haruka pushes the thought away. Her strength isn't beautiful. It's necessary. She can't afford softness.

Not now. Not if this means...

"We will find the Talismans, ka?" Haruka asks, the Messiah busy scrutinizing a sakura blossom-filled twig with the artistic interest that would have fitted Michiru, but only makes these unclear features take on an air of childish fascination.

"The Talismans?" The Messiah repeats the words as if tasting them for the first time. Then she turns her colourless, colourfilled eyes upwards, meeting Haruka's gaze with a small smile.

She is gentle. Unable to keep the answering smirk at bay, Haruka cocks her head. This person might be the Messiah, but she's also only an innocent girl. That kind of charm has always been able to edge its way through all the Wind Senshi's defences; even her strongest armour.

"You already have the Talismans," the Messiah adds, her light body spinning in a circle, her hair flying around her form in long tendrils of sunrise.

Haruka's eyes narrow. Stepping forward through the world of black and white, she grabs the wrist of the one thing still in colour, though it has no colour, only energy. Looking at her in surprise, the Messiah comes to a halt. There's definitely darkness in her pupils, but it is another kind of darkness than Haruka has ever seen before. It has nothing to do with shadows. Nothing to do with Chaos.

"What's that supposed to mean," she requires, her voice deep and demanding. Is this the answer? Do Michiru and herself already have the Talismans in their possession...? Demo... there has been no sacrifice yet.

There's got to be a sacrifice, Haruka knows. It's the way of the world, no matter how much Sailor Moon hates it. Because even though this dream is in black and white, reality is not.

The Messiah doesn't reply. She raises her hand to once again contemplate the sakura blossoms, a soft smile edging its way onto her lips. She seems to be lost in a world of her own.

Haruka won't allow it. She hates it when Michiru does that, retreating into a world where Haruka doesn't have access. But if the Messiah does it, it will mean failure.

They can't afford failure any more than they can afford softness.

So she shakes the girl hard, only regretting for a short second the way her long hair is whipped into her face. Her framed features adopt the very distinct expression of fear. Haruka despises herself for it, but she has to know.

"What do you mean?" she asks again, a little more softly this time, because her actions spoke of all the harshness that she can muster.

It's not fair. It's not fair that they can't get the Grail and save the lives of millions without having to watch at least three people die.

It's not fair.

Blinking angrily, Haruka turns her face away, letting go slowly of the Messiah's wrist. She will find the Talismans on her own. She will save this world on her own. She isn't afraid of dirtying her hands to do it, but she won't... she won't sacrifice girls like Odango Atama, girls like Sailor Moon, girls like the Messiah in that fight. Because it's _her_ fight.

Hers and hers alone.

"_Gomen_," she apologises, turning on her heel. She has crossed a line she wasn't meant to... in what way, she's not yet sure of. She just knows that now there's only one way to go and that's forward.

"_Matte_," the Messiah begs gently, Haruka continuing anyway. Then she feels a soft, warm hand on her arm and the distinct aura of power engulfing her. Looking over her shoulder, she stares into eyes that are no longer colourless, but the clear blue of the sky. The hair tickling her cheek is blonde; the golden shine of the sun.

It's... Staring wide-eyed, she gets out the first half of the name, before she's cut off.

"Odang..." Her voice drops a notch.

"You only need to ask your heart," the Messiah whispers before reaching up and cupping Haruka's face in her shining hands, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "Trust in your heart, Uranus."

And she's gone. Like the being of light she is, she disappears in the blink of an eye, leaving Haruka alone to slowly gain colour and conscious life.

When she wakes up, Haruka knows the dream is over and this is where reality will take its beginning.

**finis**

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**End Note: **"Prisoner of Love" is a Japanese song by Utada Hikaru, used as the opening for the j-drama Last Friends, featuring the main character Michiru and her tomboyish, female racer friend Ruka (ring a bell) who also has an as of yet unrequited love for Michiru. I have only watched some of the first episode, but it seems VERY promising. The reason I chose this title for this particular fic is that if any Haruka is the one character who most often sees her emotions/feelings contrasting with what she has to do and this indeed makes her a prisoner of love, ne?


End file.
